City of Souls
by Elizabeth Gray
Summary: It was a game of cat and mouse, the new detective trying to make a name for himself versus the infamous thief lurking in the shadows. But in the end, who catches who?


City of Souls

Her eyes feasted upon it, its colors dulled by the darkness. Her feet lithely leapt over the trip wire. She approached it, studying it, cocking her head to the side. She scratched absently at her black wool sweater.

"You'd look good over my fireplace…or in it." She smirked at her own joke. Her small hands gripped the engraved, wooden frame and with surprising force, yanked it off the wall. _BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! _The alarm went off but she seemed amazingly calm. She grabbed the frame as she sprinted all the way to the window, already propped open for her. Once outside, she quickly tied the thin, almost invisible wire to the small silver hooks and tugged once, seeing it being lifted off to the roof. She then nearly flew down the fire escape and jumped into the waiting car. She left the sirens in the dust, taking her prize with her.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Jace hated paperwork. He did not spend his years at the academy to push papers around. He guessed he shouldn't have expected more after all he had just been made detective. He grimaced as he took a sip of his coffee, awful. Did the machine stop halfway? He sighed, he was supposed to be out saving the world right now and all he was thinking about was coffee.

"Don't worry newbie, it gets easier…when you get out of the paperwork hole." Verlak drawled. Jace gritted his teeth. He got the worst cubicle, the one near the coffee machine which meant that everyone was passing through, interrupting his focus.

"Thanks for that note." Jace muttered as he flipped another folder open. Jace sighed as the phone rang. He picked up the phone. "Herondale." His voice was tinged with exasperation and boredom.

"Herondale? We need you here."

Cruisers were parked in front of the building, their signature blue and red lights flashing. It was in the nicer the city, the old brownstones lining the streets as I parked my car and got out. Commissioner Graymark was already there, waiting for me.

"She just waltzed right in, guards didn't see a damn thing." He cursed as Jace walked over. They made their way in.

"Who was the artist?"

"Aline Penhallow, the Sage stole her best work, 'Angel Raziel Over Lake Lynn'" Jace had heard of that in the paper, Aline Penhallow was one of the most acclaimed artist that rose and broke away from the generations of corporate power that her family had to become and artist. He glanced around at the gallery walls filled with advertisements, encouraging consumers to buy their products…then again maybe she hasn't completely broken away. "She's on her way over here now, pretty pissed."

"Did the perp leave anything?"

"Scene was nearly clean, avoided lasers, trip wires, almost everything." Jace raised an eyebrow.

"Almost?"

"He set off the wire when he pulled the frame off of the wall, gone before we even got there."

"Anything else?"

"Yea…just his signature gift."

Jace stared at the small, green plant intently. It was so frustrating; one of the most successful art thieves out there and he only left a piece of clary sage. The only thing he left behind, the only thing that could ID him….and they were completely lost. He stepped under the crime scene tape.

"Penhallow wants to speak to you." Jace raised an eyebrow.

"Why me?" Luke smiled faintly.

"I'm putting you as head detective for this case." Jace felt his heart leap. He was in charge of this case? Catching the Sage Thief could be his big break. She was notorious for stealing works of art whose value did not go lower than 20,000 dollars. Aline Penhallow is one of her favorite targets.

"What do you mean you have no leads?" Jace rubbed his temples. Aline Penhallow leaned closer to him, trying to beat his height uselessly due to her small frame. "My show is tomorrow! Do you know how much business will be lost if my painting isn't here tomorrow?" Jace had seen her in magazines, her long brown hair plaited neatly and her almond eyes calm, her features were always composed and devoid of emotions. But now as she was exploding at him, her face red, her hair messily piled on top of her head, he couldn't help but notice the contrast. How much did she really care about her art rather than the money it brought?

He shook his head. It wasn't his business what she did with her art, it was his business to find the thief. "Ms. Penhallow," He tried to keep his voice steady, "You can still have your show tomorrow, in fact you have to have your show tomorrow." She narrowed her eyes.

"And why is that Detective Herondale?"

"Because I will be joining it."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

It had taken a while to convince Penhallow that holding the show would be a good idea. But after considering the number of people that would come due to the atmosphere of enigma due to the robbery, she relented. So here he was, in a suit that seemed to suffocate him at the neck. He cleared his throat, tugging at his solid color tie, yearning to be back in his t-shirt and leather jacket.

"Would you stop fidgeting? I don't want a five year old to appear in my pictures." Aline hissed as she glided past him in her floor length, red dress. Working with her was quite an experience. Even though Jace knew she was the victim, he couldn't bring up sympathy for her. He nonchalantly walked around, his eyes focused on the guests more so than the painting. _He'll be back, he's arrogant he'll come back to gauge everyone's reactions…and to find another prize to steal. _

He stopped in front of a mass of colors. It was in the corner of the room, where he had a good vantage point of everyone that attended. It was mostly high class people, who milled around, their eyes open for anything to buy, sipping their champagne with pursed lips.

"It's a mess isn't it?" Her voice jolted him out of his thoughts as he scrambled to collect his thoughts. Jace looked around, shocked to see a complete stranger speaking to him. She was even shorter than Aline, her petite frame clothed in a green dress. She had red hair done up in a long, simple braid. She looked at him, her green eyes glinted with amusement.

"I think that's what she was going for." Jace gestured to the painting, cursing himself in his head. He wasn't a big fan of part, he didn't even have any pieces, much less know how to analyze them and extract some kind of meaning from the mass of colors. The woman chuckled.

"Oh I wasn't talking about the painting." Her gaze was focused on Aline who was dabbing her eyes as others offered words of sympathy. "I guess she's making more from the robbery than the actual painting." Jace raised an eyebrow at the annoyed twinge in her voice.

"You have a problem with that?" After dealing with so many petty cases of theft, Jace was familiar with the lengths people would go to, to make money.

"You don't?" She gazed around the room. "Art isn't about money." She sighed.

"Clary, how shocking to see you here!" Aline's voice turned sickly sweet as she walked over. Clary smiled as she sipped her flute of champagne.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I've seen you've met my friend Jonathan." She wrapped a hand around my arm. Clary raised an eyebrow.

"Yes I have, a rather interesting fellow." Her eyes met mine as they twinkled with amusement.

"How is your mother doing? Not struggling with the bills are you?" There was an undertone of smugness in Aline's voice. Clary smiled, seemingly oblivious to her tone.

"We get along, we don't need to commercialize or cheat to gain money." Jace coughed to cover up a laugh. Aline flushed.

"Yes well I should be attending to my guests." Aline sniffed.

"You should go do that. By the way, before I forget I offer my condolences Aline I really do hope you find your painting." With that she walked out. Jace had found his first suspect.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Clary Fray, graduated from Tufts University, works at a local café…seems like a normal girl." Jace sighed in frustration. "Why are you so set on her?" Verlak snorted.

"I don't know it's just…she was the only one there who wasn't so…fake about the missing painting. She seemed almost amused by the robbery. There's just something about her."

"Sure it's not just a little crush?" Verlak smirked. Jace hesitated; she wasn't as beautiful as Aline who had a certain regality about her but Clary…she was more natural. The image of her smile flashed in his head…she was an enigma…something he wanted to solve.

The bell rang as he entered the diner. His taste buds were shot from the diluted coffee and he needed a fix, fast. He sighed in relief when he sipped and then looked around. His eyes rested on the fiery red hair sitting alone in a booth. She had a sketchpad out, scribbling something in with her charcoal pencil.

"Hello Clary." Clary glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Hello…I never got your name at the show." Her voice was smooth and soft as she spoke.

"You can call me Detective Herondale." Clary raised an eyebrow, not seeming fazed.

"Alright, what can I do for you Detective?"

"You can tell me you whereabouts last week on Friday at around midnight."

"I was at home, my friend had me move a couch into her apartment." Jace nodded.

"Write her number down." She scribbled some numbers down. Clary hesitated, not giving him back the pen as a smirk spread across her face.

"I'll give you my number too…just in case."

Jace ran a hand through his hair. "Her alibi checks out." He sat back in his chair. "Guess we're back to square one."

"Not necessarily, do you honestly think that only one person could get past the lasers and tripwire, grab the painting, climb down with it and get away, all before the guards got there?"

"She had an accomplice."

"Who better than her best friend?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary grunted as she ripped it out. The frame cracked and splintered. The pieces fell to the floor with a thud.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Isabelle's voice came from behind her. She and Simon watching her as they lounged on the couch.

"You can still sell the painting but he-"She picked up the pieces, "gets this."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

She was getting really arrogant now, sending the frame to Aline's address- that was sending a message.

"What the hell does this mean?" Aline demanded.

"It's sending a message. She's getting bolder, escalating. It could be another trigger to steal something else of yours."

"Alright I'll double security." Jace bit his lip.

"Actually…I was thinking of something else...I want you to let her steal a painting." Aline blinked slowly.

"I'm sorry?"

"We need to catch her and what better way than to catch her in the act?"

"You're asking me to risk a 30,000 dollar painting, are you insane?"

"It's the only way we're going to catch her, it's been two weeks and we haven't got anything. Trust me; she will continue to prey on you. Soon your gallery will just be empty walls." Aline sighed.

"If she does steal another one…you're responsible."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Jace picked up a chocolate bar. When you're going on a stake out, you're not too picky about your meals.

"How's the case going?" Jace jumped and turned to find Clary looking at him.

"Do you really expect me to tell you that?" Clary laughed.

"Guess not," She shifted her basket to another arm. "I suppose I can't ask about the case…so Detective Herondale, how are you?" Jace suppressed a smile.

"Good, what about you Clary?" She bit her lip thoughtfully.

"Curious…always curious."

"About what may I ask?" She smiled.

"You." Thus starting the bombardment of questions. They stood in the grain aisle for God knows how long just talking.

"Why did you become a cop?" She asked, swiping a grape from a nearby stand. Her face twisted in concentration as she swallowed it and then took the entire cluster.

"My dad was never home, I found out why when I was 15." He laughed bitterly, "It turns out he seemed to be a fan of home invasions, attacked about 5 families." Clary glanced at him.

"Then what?"

"Well I was…afraid, afraid to be like him, afraid to be seen as his son. My uncle was an officer, enrolled me in the academy after I finished school." Clary nodded slowly.

"Do you still feel that way?" Jace sighed.

"When I was still a beat cop…yea sure but now…now I don't know what I'm doing." He sighed. "What about you? What do you do?"

"I'm a waitress…but what I really want to be is an artist." Jace glanced at her paint stained fingers.

"I can tell." Clary laughed.

"I love to draw and paint…not much of a money job though. My dad was pretty disappointed when he found out but my mom," She smiled faintly, "my mom was so proud, she's an artist as well." Clary glanced at the watch. "Well I better go, my friends are coming over tonight and I promised to make them some lasagna." Jace smiled.

"Have fun." He wasn't sure why he had told her that much about himself but she was so easy to talk to…he shook his head. No, she was still a suspect. This changed nothing.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Jace's eyes had adjusted to the dark. Now he was just waiting. It was the depiction of the Angel Ithuriel, this time chained in a basement. It was 40,000 dollars. His body had grown weary of standing there but he kept himself up, there was no way he'd let another painting get away. He was close to falling asleep when he heard footsteps. They were quiet and he almost missed them, drowned in the vastness of the space. He pulled out his gun, holding it down to his side with both hands as he moved.

"Hands up!" He pointed the gun to the figure. It smiled at him and took of its mask.

"Hello Detective Herondale," She said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary smiled, allowing him to catch her. She wanted to laugh at his gun. He wouldn't shoot her, that wasn't Jace.

"Clary? What are you doing?"

"Stealing a painting, what do you think?"

"W-why?" He stuttered. This was the first time he lost composure.

"Is this painting really that important? Just watercolor and oils, no feeling, no passion, it might as well just be a pile of money to Aline. If it means that much to her…" She trailed off. He still hadn't lowered his gun.

""What do you do with them?"

"Isabelle finds the buyers, Simon ships them across the globe, never to be seen again."

"I've never had a crook confess so quickly."

"I have nothing to hide…I'm not your father Jace." Jace stiffened as she stepped closer.

"Don't move!" He ordered. She ignored him as she stepped closer.

"You won't shoot me Jace, you won't report me and you won't arrest me."

"How do you know that?" He sneered. She chuckled as she finally reached him. She gently made him release the gun with her gloved hand and breathed in his ear.

"Because you love me." Jace was frozen with shock. She grabbed his face and pressed her lips to his. Jace was electrified, he shuddered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and for that moment, everything was illuminated. She yanked the painting and blew him a kiss as she disappeared out the window.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

His mind was too scrambled to notice Aline screaming at him or Graymark's disappointed look as he told him that he was off the case. His mind was too out there, thinking only of her. What the hell was she talking about? He wasn't in love with her. Was she insane? He shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair.

It had been months and there was no trace of her. She had disappeared off the face of the Earth. Months to get him to be standing here. She had lived in a run-down apartment building downtown but she still made a lasting impression. He stared at the mural. Oh yea…she definitely made a lasting impression. It depicted a city, not New York but somewhere else, the small buildings were lit up with two especially tall towers rising out of the mist. There were rolling hills and a lake. _**Idris, City of Lost Souls **_was scribbled on the bottom.

"She worked on that for years." Jace whirled around to see a woman standing behind him, same red hair, and same green eyes. "She said it would brighten the building, give hope." She was her mother. "She told me to give you this." She shoved a big envelope in his hands.

"She contacted you? Where is she?" He was desperate for answers. She just blinked.

"She told me to give this to you." She repeated and walked away. Jace groaned in frustration and with shaking fingers, opened the envelope. He swallowed his gasp of shock as he saw Ithuriel's piercing gaze peak over the envelope as he pulled out the folded painting. There was something else; he pulled out a small photograph. There was a balcony protruding from a small café on a cobble stone street, the Eiffel Tower in the background. He recognized the scrawl.

_**Paris, City of Lights**_

_**Where Souls are found**_

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The case was given to Verlak which Jace was happy about. He wasn't a very good Detective and he knew Clary would be able to evade him. The paintings were never found, one was sold and the other…the other Jace still kept, a reminder that somewhere out there, _she _was there, and she was right about the last thing she said to him when he caught her, she was right about that all along.

Jace went back to being a beat cop, taking on the streets again. Today, it was a new morning, a clean one before the muck of New York stirs something up but right now, nothing in this world matter. Jace groaned as he pulled himself up and then shot straight up. Something was off…

"Hello Detective Herondale." She said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

**I got this idea while watching, "To Catch A Thief" in Lit Class on Friday. What did you guys think about Clary being the bad guy this time? I hope you enjoyed this story because I think I will keep it a one shot. Thanks for reading!**


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